Campsitting
by xlash
Summary: When the crew leaves Wigfrid in charge of Wes, she finds out there may be a little more to the silent mime than she thought. (Wesfrid fluff, more coming soon.)


A little Wesfrid fanfiction I wrote. Enjoy??????

"Yöu want me tö WHAT?" Wigfrid bellowed, clutching onto her spear as she leaned over Wilson with burning eyes.

Wilson stepped back, looking irritated as he wiped his face. "You heard me," he said flatly. "We really need you to stay here and keep an eye on Wes. We obviously can't bring him with us, you saw what happened last time."

Wigfrid had a brief recollection of the time the group had gone on a koalefant hunting expedition, when halfway through the trip, Wes had spontaneously disappeared. The group had been in a frenzy, looking frantically for the fragile mime when they heard a deafening screech. Surely enough, the noise pointed them right to Wes– the mime was clutching onto an egg, running from an angered tallbird.

In the end, they managed to take the towering bird down, which would be their replacement meal, given the fact that by the time they had finally saved Wes, the koalefant's trail was long gone. The meat wasn't as nearly as good, and a bit stiff, but it was all they had, thanks to Wes. He had snagged the mighty beast's egg however, and they did their best to convince him they needed to at least cook it for food. Wes wouldn't budge however, as he seemed to be dead set on keeping the unborn abomination as his own, like a pet.

As she remembered such things, Wigfrid had to agree that she understood why they wouldn't want to bring Wes with them again. The little guy was good for motivation at times, or a smile or two at least, but he really couldn't anything more than that. She felt pity for him at times, but usually discarded such feelings.

"But I'm the warriör! The gallant söldier! Yöu can't gö ön a quest withöut me!" Wigfrid complained, the previous anger in her expression had been replaced with disappointment.

"We're not doing any fighting or hunting," Wilson assured her, gathering and tossing supplies into his pack. "You can come next time, alright? Just help us out here. Wes doesn't do much, so it shouldn't be difficult. Just keep an eye on him and hangout for a while, please?"

Wigfrid looked reluctant, crossing her arms and sighing. She looked at the ground and kicked a loose pebble in her frustration.

"Next time, we can have someone else keep guard over him, okay? Just do it this once." Wilson persisted.

"I guess, if I have tö," she casted a glance back at Wes' tent. "Fine. But önly because yöu'd all pröbably die if he went, and a true warriör wöuld NEVER let her friends die. I will take ön this challenge! I will keep the fragile little man alive!" Wigfrid raised her voice at the end, as if she had been giving some emotionally-charged speech. The yelling had caught the other survivors' attention, they looked at her questioningly, but decided it was best not to ask.

Wilson smiled hesitantly, and nodded as he prepared the last of his items and threw them together. "Thank you, Wigfrid. We shouldn't be too long." With that, he stood up with the pack slung over his back, motioning to Willow, Woodie, Wendy and Wickerbottom that it was time to move out.

Wigfrid watched the group trek out of camp and into the forest's abyss of pine needles and wood. She stood there for a while, one hand on her spear and the other on her hip, with her eyes scanning the forest.

She made sure that no beast or creature of any length or height made it past her sight. She decided she would protect not only the mime, but the camp as well. She would prove to her fellow survivors that she was a valuable asset, and a strong fighter. Then, they would always bring her on trips, once they realized how great she was. Or at least, that's how she pictured it would go.

There was a rustling in the tent, and she whipped around, already poised to attack, shoving her spear forward in a defensive stance. She lowered her weapon and loosened up a bit immediately after once she had realized it was only Wes. Of course it was only him! How could she be so foolish? She cursed herself for being so on edge, and reminded herself that a real warrior wouldn't be so skittish.

Wes was peering out of his tent, his brightly colored face sticking out against the dull brown fabric. He looked confused for a moment, perhaps wondering where everyone had gone. He saw Wigfrid and smiled, giving her a feeble wave with his hand.

"Ah, there yöu are, fragile öne!" Wigfrid exclaimed, advancing towards the tent. Her face was stern– she didn't intend on losing Wes today and failing her fellow friends. "Dön't try anything tricky, mime! I'm suppösed tö keep watch över yöu töday."

Wes nodded slowly as if to process the information, his only form of response being a curt smile as he slipped back into his tent. Wigfrid raised an eyebrow, wondering what he was doing in there. She had at least expected him to come out and eat breakfast, he had just woken up after all! Wasn't he hungry? That was a stupid question, he's always hungry.

"Aren't thöu hungry? At all? Yöu've been slumbering för quite söme time, friend!" she probed, cocking her head as she got a closer look at the tent. "Why are yöu weary? Are yöu sick?"

Wes popped out of the tent again, shaking his head in reply before disappearing inside once more. This was incredibly bewildering to Wigfrid. What was up with him? The curiosity began eating away at her immediately.

"Mime! I demand yöu tell me what yöu are up tö!" she finally declared, planting her feet firmly on the ground as she held her spear tightly. More than anything, she was just frustrated. She didn't like it when people kept secrets from her, she thought it was a sly, unpleasant thing to do. Real warriors were honorable with one another and never lied, and secrets were considered an unfathomable thing.

Wes appeared one more time, however now he was holding his index finger against his lips. Was he telling her to be quiet? How dare he! Did he even know who he was talking to? The gesture had suddenly deeply offended Wigfrid, and she was ready to go off on him, but something stopped her.

Wes had opened the tent flaps, now gesturing for her to come inside. She caught a glimpse of something inside; an obscured shape of something hidden, but couldn't quite make out what it was exactly.

Her expression softened. She looked at Wes with a puzzled expression. He only smiled eagerly, gesturing once more for her to come inside. She hesitated at first, trying to figure out what he wanted to show her. After she decided he was too weak to pull off any traitorous move (even if he had planned one) she decided to go for it.

As she attempted to get in, Wes stopped her, pointing to the spear in her hand and shaking his head, a look of worry crossing his face. She glared for a moment, growing even more dubious of the mime, but still deciding she could beat him up, even without her spear if she had to. So she set it down outside the tent. Wes gave her an approving nod and opened the flap again.

Wigfrid ducked down and crawled into the tent, cautiously stepping over the sleeping bag inside and sitting herself up against one of the tent's fabric walls. She waited for a moment, then looked over at Wes expectantly.

"Well?" she squinted her eyes suspiciously. "What are…"

She trailed off when she noticed something in the sleeping bag was rustling. Wes quickly scooted over to the mysterious movement and sat there, a look of sheer excitement plastered over his white face.

Suddenly, something fuzzy emerged from under the sleeping bag. It was almost perfectly round, with a giant, glossy eye and a small beak. The little creature made tiny peeps as it woke up, shaking itself off briefly before it saw Wes, and bounced into his lap. It nuzzled against his chest, a strange, almost eerie purring noise emitting from its throat. Wes wrapped his thin arms around it, wearing a look of pure bliss.

Wigfrid felt her stomach drop. The tallbird egg! Had the mime really hatched it after all? She could recall long ago seeing the tallbird offsprings known as "smallbirds" frolicking alongside their lengthy parents before in the rock fields. They were certainly a major contrast to their parents. Tall, murderous and rampaging birds, producing small, round, friendly cutie-pies. Of course, inevitably, someday they would grow into the same monstrosities their parents were. It was only a matter of time.

Wigfrid stared in amazement, watching in awe as the little monster treated Wes as if he was its dad or something. It was unnatural, and Wes out of all of the survivors, was the least expected to do something so bold. At least, that's how Wigfrid saw it.

"That's fröm the egg yöu stöle that öne day?" Wigfrid asked quietly, being careful not to disturb it. It was out of character for her not to yell, but she thought maybe just this once…

Wes nodded, staring down at the little bird joyfully. He gave it a little kiss on the head (well, wherever its head was, considering the whole thing was a literal sphere) and hugged it tightly. The creature chirped happily in response. Wigfrid had to admit it was rather cute. She typically viewed animals as nothing more than walking meat piles, and monsters as untamable, bloodthirsty brutes. This little tallbird seemed so… different. She couldn't put her finger on it. The best way she could explain it was that it was the first monster she didn't want to kill on sight.

"Well…döes the little öne have a name?" Wigfrid asked, a genuine curiosity in her tone.

Wes shrugged, making a flapping motion with his hands before he wrapped his arms back around it in a tight embrace.

"Bird?" Wigfrid guessed. A conversation with Wes was just a game of charades in disguise.

Wes made the motion again, but this time, made the shape of an "e" with his hands at the end. Wigfrid thought for a moment.

"Bird-e? Birdie? Birdie!" Wigfrid shouted in realization. Maybe this really was just charades.

Wes grinned, and nodded, patting the smallbird. He began making a series of hand motions which the bird seemed to interact with in certain ways, playfully it appeared. They both seemed to be having a lot of fun.

A small smile creeped up on Wigfrid's lips as she watched, but as soon as she realized what she was doing, she hid it instinctively. She shook her head, forcing her default, stern-state to return.

"Öh, that's an alright name I guess… a little bit weak söunding, but alright." She said flatly, turning her head away.

She felt something soft brush her against her hand suddenly. When she looked back


End file.
